No Place for a Lady by Louise Allen

Author:Louise Allen [Allen, Louise]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Betsy, who had apparently decided to acquit Max of being a dangerous rake, or at least, to give him the benefit of the doubt, served them a supper of hot pot and vegetables. She refrained from hovering in the dining room, as Bree rather feared she would, instead leaving the door pointedly open.

‘I do wish she wouldn’t do that,’ Bree grumbled as the candles on the long oak table flickered wildly. ‘It is creating such a draught.’

‘She is ensuring that I am not going to take advantage of you and ravish you while we are alone.’ Max helped himself to the buttered cabbage hearts. ‘Foolish, of course, I am far too hungry.’

Bree smiled somewhat wanly at the sally. The way she was feeling, it was far more likely that she would do something scandalous than he would. She searched for a safe topic of conversation.

‘Where do you get your horses from, my lord?’

He raised an eyebrow at the formality, then his eyes flickered to the sturdy figure of Betsy, coming in with the mustard pot, and he nodded in comprehension.

‘From a number of sources, Miss Mallory. Some direct from Ireland—my hunters mainly—others through private sales or at Tattersalls. Do you breed all your own horses for the company here?’

‘Mostly, unless we come across something suitable at a bargain price. I have a yen for having all our horses one colour—grey would be smart, I think. No other coach company does that. But Piers and Uncle George think me frivolous for entertaining such an idea.’

‘It would be an advertisement. People would clamour to travel behind your match greys.’ Max grinned at her. ‘But I can’t quite make that fit your slogans. You don’t fancy chestnuts, do you? The Challenge Coach Company’s Champing Chestnuts has a fine ring.’

‘Chestnuts are too temperamental,’ Bree said repressively, finding her sense of humour rather lacking when he chaffed her about the company. She was missing the bustle of the yard, even after only a few days of handing much of her work to Rosa. The thought of cutting herself off entirely was painful. But her involvement with the company was yet another reason why there could never be anything between her and Max.

‘You’re looking down in the dumps Miss Bree.’ Betsy set a large rhubarb pie in front of her. ‘There’s no need to fret about Mr Mallory, you’ll see. I’ll just go and get the cream for you.’

‘It is only that I am tired,’ Bree confessed to Max, picking up a spoon to serve the dessert. ‘I do wish he would come home soon.’

‘Why not go to bed after supper?’ He accepted a portion of pie and reached for the cream. ‘I’ll sit up and wait for him and wake you up when he gets back.’

‘On the contrary, it is you who should retire and rest. There is your shoulder for one thing, and you are a guest.’

‘A self-invited one! But let us both sit up, then. Mr Mallory will come in after a pleasant evening with friends and find us both scandalously asleep on the drawing-room sofa.

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